


The First and the Last

by curiouscorvid (prometheanTactician)



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Fear Toxin Bullshit, M/M, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-27 22:59:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12592432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prometheanTactician/pseuds/curiouscorvid
Summary: The first time the Riddler was hit with fear toxin, he had no idea what had happened.The last time the Riddler was hit with fear toxin, it was entirely unintentional.





	The First and the Last

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Filling my own prompts? More likely than you'd think!

The first time the Riddler was hit with fear toxin, he had no idea what had happened. One moment he was breaking into Ace Chemicals with his gang, and the next he was six years old hiding in a cupboard with increasing panic. The longer he hid, the worse it would be, but if he came out he would get hurt. There was no winning. He could hear his father slamming all the other cupboards, becoming louder as he approached the one where Edward hid in darkness.

The Scarecrow watched him carefully. The Riddler was already infamous and could potentially become an enemy or rival. Already he seemed to be aiming to steal the very same chemicals Jon needed for his toxin. Anything he could discern about this potential foe would be useful.

The Riddler’s lackeys were thrashing and fighting thin air, or cowering on the floor. But not the Riddler himself. He had stumbled and sat down, as if losing his balance, and then he’d gone very, very still. He stared at nothing, occasionally closing his eyes tightly. He was wincing. Perhaps he was hiding? Jonathan crouched down in front of him, studied him closely. Now what would happen if…

He grabbed Riddler’s arm, and the response was immediate.

It wasn’t a strong or forceful grip, but the Riddler struggled weakly against it all the same. Almost as if he didn’t possess the strength of a grown man. He was apologizing, voice frantic and pleading. Scarecrow still wasn’t sure who the Riddler was trying to apologize to. A parent? Grandparent? School bully? Past lover?

“Were you trying to hide?” He hissed, watching as the Riddler screwed his eyes shut, near to hyperventilating.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I didn’t want- Father please, I didn’t mean to-”

“Didn’t mean to what?” He pressed, letting go of Edward’s arm as the frightened man gripped his hair, tugging in panicked desperation.

“I- I don’t know! Whatever it is I did! I’m sorry!”

“You’ve always done something. Is that right?” His words were probing, testing. Looking for key information.

“Always… there… there was always something…” Edward’s eyes were far away, glazed over and filled with terror. Jon had to admit, he was gorgeous when he was like this. “Nothing was ever enough… Not ever… There was always something wrong… I was always wrong… Something… Something wrong with me. I’m wrong. I’m wrong…”

And he started crying.

That was quite enough, Jonathan decided as he stood. He had enough information to work with should the Riddler become a threat to his work, and if he stuck around much longer then the Bat was sure to show up.

\---

The last time the Riddler was hit with fear toxin, it was entirely unintentional. They’d been on a job when the Bat burst in, and between the two of them they seemed to be doing well. The room was filled with the toxin in gaseous form, and the Batman was absolutely suffering for it. His fighting was sloppy, his body was shaking, but he was still too much. His hand found the gasmask affixed to Edward’s face and pulled it off.

Edward went very still all at once, stumbling backwards as the Bat turned his attention to Scarecrow. He didn’t expect the sudden frenzy of slashing scythe that came at him as soon as he turned. He didn’t expect the ferocity of the attack. He didn’t expect the injector gauntlet driven into his neck with a furious growl from the man wearing it. Batman fell to the ground, struggling against his fears, but there was no time to waste on him.

Edward was shaking hard when Jonathan picked him up. He flinched and fought, but a sharp word had him freezing in fear again, tensing, bracing himself for a hit. Jonathan hated having to use that against him, but he had to get Edward into fresh air immediately. Prolonged exposure to such a potent dosage of the toxin could have some serious long-term effects.

The drive back to their home was a blur. Jon was sure he’d never driven so recklessly in his life. Immediately, he dropped Edward onto their bed and hurried down to his lab in the basement. He always had a dose of the anti-toxin on hand. It wouldn’t be immediate and it wouldn’t dispel the effects entirely, but it would prevent any long-term damage and make the experience much more bearable.

Injecting Edward was a struggle. He fought and pled, tried to get away. Jonathan had to forcefully hold him down and inject him. There was nothing to do after that but wait. Touching Edward while he was under the effects of the toxin would be a terrible idea. Even something comforting would be twisted by his mind into an attack. He didn’t want to leave Edward alone in case he hurt himself, but there was nothing he could really do… and so he got out his notebook and began to document Edward’s experience and reaction.

Usually, he’d prompt the subject into deeper fear and ask questions in an attempt to dig deeper into the effects. He didn’t do that this time. He didn’t want to make it worse. Edward struggled with his trauma more than enough already without Jonathan exacerbating the situation.

It seemed to be the usual stuff. His father, fears of failure, of abandonment… Occasionally, Jon heard his own name, in pleas not to leave. Then he heard his name in a different context. At first Jonathan thought Edward was pleading with a vision of his father again. “Please don’t hurt me” and frantic apologies, writhing in some attempt to avoid a blow. But when he addressed his attacker, he wasn’t pleading with his father.

“Jon, please- please- I’m sorry- Please don’t-”

Jonathan didn’t usually have such an adverse reaction to fear. His stomach churned. His blood went cold. His chest constricted and he had to put down his pencil for fear of dropping it. Edward was seeing him. Edward was seeing him as a threat, as an abuser, as an attacker. Was Edward afraid of him? Or was Edward afraid of the possibility of someone he trusts turning out to be just like everyone else?

He wasn’t proud of it, but he had to leave the room. He could not bear to hear any more. It was too vivid, too close to what he specifically never wanted to happen. Whatever Edward was seeing… Jonathan didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to be that. He dropped onto the couch in the living room, his head in his hands as he considered the situation.

When Edward emerged from the bedroom hours later, shaken but lucid, he made no mention of anything he saw. To his surprise, Edward didn’t flinch from him. The first thing he did upon seeing Jon was tug him near and mutter some request to be held. Something inside of Jon relaxed when that happened. Edward didn’t fear him. Edward found comfort in him. Edward felt safe with him. Jonathan asked how he felt and made him some hot chocolate both for comfort and for his blood sugar. 

Usually the toxin made people adverse to touch, but Edward sought it out from Jon. He needed affection and comfort, reminders that he was loved. Such things did not come naturally to Jonathan, but after so long with Edward he was starting to get the hang of it. If all else failed, he only needed to sit still and allow Edward to curl up against him.

Still, the whole thing was decidedly unpleasant. Jonathan put great effort into making sure neither of them ever had to experience that again.


End file.
